3. Chapter Three
Chapter Three
Finn
A t least in solitary confinement, I don’t need my senses on constant alert. That’s the only perk to the box. A two-day reprieve from watching my back is a bit like a sensory vacation.
Of course, the real punishment is having to be alone with my thoughts. During the day, it’s not so bad. My mind is a projector, and a highlight reel of my greatest hits plays across the cement block wall. Who doesn’t love remembering their excellence?
At night, though, something darker streams. I discover my mother has been murdered; Carys clings to me in the interrogation room begging me not to make a choice that’s already made; or she lies on the dirty floor of a pub in Ireland on the brink of death. When I wake up shouting, there’s no one to hear me. That’s the thing about loosening the seal. Thoughts seep in like smoke under a door, choking me, reminding me of how peacefully I slept beside her, however brief that might have been.
When my breakfast is passed through the next morning, the guard says, “Something’s coming down the pipe for you, Donaghey.”
“Oh yeah?” I take the tray. “Sharing is caring.” I smirk.
“Told me to prep you once you’re done with your food.”
“Prep me?” On my bed, I shovel the porridge and boiled eggs into my mouth. Has Carys managed to have me moved already? Maybe I underestimated her. Or someone. Could Jay do this?
When the breakfast tray is gone, the guard puts on my shackles, and I muse about where I’m going. Would they let me go to a lower-security prison? I’ve been in a fight almost every day since I arrived. A lot of money would have to change hands to get anyone to sign off on a transfer to a place with fewer security measures. Hope stirs in my stomach. If she’s managed to get me this far this quickly, then maybe there’s something to her escape plan.
The guard radios back and forth with someone about getting me on the bus. “They packed for you,” the guard says by way of explanation as we shuffle toward the prison exit used for transfer.
I stifle a laugh. Packed? Like my government-issued toothbrush and my comb? God knows I got nothing else in that cell. “Know where I’m going?” Maybe all she managed was another high-security place. They wanted to put me in the supermax prison at first, but my lawyer was able to argue out of that one.
“They don’t tell me shit,” he grumbled.
Ahead there’s a line of men being clipped into the back of a truck. Guess it’ll be shackles for however many hours until we’re at another prison. I’m hoping she doesn’t opt for a jailbreak out of the truck. Getting tossed around and flipped upside down isn’t on my bucket list. Images from The Fugitive resurface. Good movie. Not particularly keen to play out parts of it. Still, free is free, and I’m not going to complain if a heist does the trick.
Once we’re locked into place, the engine rumbles to life, and we sway with the bumps in the road as we travel. Across from me, a white guy gives me the eye. Not a cue to fight. No, his expression is different. He’s trying to decide if he wants to talk to me. I already know I’m not talking. The less people understand about me—beyond my fists—the better off I am.
“You’re Finn Donaghey?” The guy’s chin flicks toward me like we’re buddies.
I stare and don’t respond. Unless he’s deaf, he knows who I am. The guard said my name as he locked me in. How many men in this prison are named Finn? Ask a stupid question and suffer my wrath.
“Shut the fuck up, Billy,” the guy beside me grumbles. “We got hours in this truck before we get to Michigan, and I don’t wanna hear you yammering.”
Michigan? The only federal facility in that state is a private, minimum-security prison. If that’s what’s happening here, my prospects of escape are quadrupled.
“I got a message for Donaghey, Eduardo,” Billy says with an eager voice.
“Yeah?” Eduardo says. “Is it that you’re a dumbass? ’Cause anyone who knows you already got that message loud and clear.”
I smirk and glance at Eduardo. An attitude I can appreciate.
“When we get there”—Billy ignores my snarky bench mate—“come find me. It’s important.”
With narrowed eyes, I glare at him. Would Jay or Carys communicate through such an eager kid? There’s been nothing discreet about the connection he’s establishing. The other three guys in the truck will turn over information on us for a shorter sentence or a perk inside in a heartbeat. So stupid to open his mouth with so many crooked witnesses.
“I got nothing to say to you,” I tell him.
Billy chuckles. “Right? ’Cause I got shit to say to you. Don’t matter. I’ll track you down.”
Track me down? This guy isn’t getting it, but he will if he tries to drag me into something I’m not interested in.
The truck falls into an uneasy silence as we sway in the back. I put my head against the steel wall and let my mind drift to the life I almost had. Carys. Lucas. Cape Verde. Can I reclaim it?
The facility is a vacation resort compared to the high-security prison we came from. No cuffs from place to place. Trips to the yard. No one tries to fight me or intimidate me in the first few hours. In fact, unlike the other facility, no one here seems to know who I am. I’ve never been much for anonymity, but the reprieve from constant vigilance is nice.
So when Billy comes toward me in the showers a few days after we arrive, my guard is low. In his hand is a shank, and I catch a glimpse of it just before he reaches me. On instinct, I rotate on my toe and aim a right under his jaw. He crumples to the floor, dropping the homemade knife in favor of rubbing his face.
“What the hell?” Billy mutters. Everyone else in the showers has scattered.
We’ve probably got two minutes before the guards burst in here. I pick up the shank and stand over him. “What the fuck is this? You coming for me?”
“Hell, no.” He shakes his head. “Hagen wanted me to deliver a message.”
“With a shank?” I keep my face neutral, but inside confusion swirls. Sure, I owe Hagen a few favors, but if the guy has me killed, he’s never cashing them in.
“You’re indebted to him. He wants Murray dead. I was to give you the weapon.” Billy presses on the bruise blooming along his jaw.
I chuckle. “He thinks I’ll turn into his errand boy? I’m keeping this.” I wag the knife at him. “I’m not killing anyone for Hagen Volkov.”
“He’s not going to be happy.” Billy props his back against the shower wall. “You owe him one.”
“I actually owe him a couple, but he screwed me over once, so I’m knocking a favor off. As for the other, you can tell him I’ll decide when I’m willing to pay up and what I’ll do. He might be your boss, but he sure as shit ain’t mine.”
“He—he knows a lot of people in here. He’ll make your life difficult.”
“That might be true, but I’ve gone from a maximum-security prison to this rinky-dink place in the middle of Michigan. I’m not risking my cushy station for anything. He wants to ask me for other things, I’ll consider each on a case-by-case basis. Murder isn’t on the table.” Carys needs me here, and I’m not making a single move to cause my chance at freedom to leak down the drain.
I riffle through my stuff on the bench. Do I take the shank or hide it in here somewhere? Safest to hide it. No need to get caught with contraband. None of the guards came, even though everyone must have poured out of the shower area like the place was on fire. Wonder how much he paid for this service?
“We’re done here,” I tell the kid.
“For now.” Billy rises. The bump on his chin looks like a rounded egg.
“You don’t want to cross me, kid.”
“I got bigger problems than you.”
“I’m in here, so the way I see it, there’s no bigger problem than me.”
“Yeah, well…” He runs his knuckles over his bruise. “Hagen’s out there, and I got people I give a shit about out there. So you can do your worst to me. But I’m not letting him do shit to them.” He punches the shower door when he leaves.
How many times have I heard someone begging for another person to be spared or for me to go easy on their family? Never moved me. You get into this business, and you know what you’re in for. Danger. Murder. Life on the line. And if you’re doing it right, a shit ton of money. Other than my younger brother, Lorcan, who could take care of himself, I never had anyone in my life to be dangled over the edge of a building as leverage.
I’m not stupid enough to believe I’m invincible anymore. Billy and I aren’t so different. We’ve both got people on the outside we won’t sacrifice. The question is: What’ll we do on the inside to keep them safe?